Always, in December(80)

He kept his hand out. “Well, that way I’ll be able to tell if you’re any good, without you faffing around with filters or whatnot.”

Slowly, she took the camera out of its bag and passed it to him. He immediately turned his attention to it and she wrapped her arms around herself, not knowing what to do with her body. “Really,” she insisted, “I didn’t ask Max, I don’t want a favor, I’m not—”

    “I know that.” His voice, though still gravelly, was more patient this time as he focused on her camera, not her. He flicked a glance to where she was standing, biting her lip. “But Max here can be pushy when he wants to be, I know it. He got you here, didn’t he?” Max only grinned, and at that, Josie’s glare finally cut loose. Geoffrey laughed at that. “Quite.” His expression softened a little, his eyebrows flattening out as he looked directly at Max. “Though I’d say it’d be nice to see a little more of that pushiness coming through again—it’s been missing for the last year or so, hasn’t it?”

Max sipped his tea. “It’s coming back to me, every now and then.”

“Glad to hear it. Now be quiet.” He flicked through the first few photos, glanced at Max. “I take it these are your work.”

Josie grimaced—the photos of her and Erin, in the field. “Yep,” said Max, stretching out his legs. “I’m discovering my talent late in life.”

Geoffrey made no comment, just kept looking through the photos. Josie let go of her arms, twisted her hands in front of her, knowing she was holding her breath but unable to stop. She felt unbelievably vulnerable, standing there while someone in the industry appraised her work, while Max and his bloody girlfriend sat there on the same chair, looking all smug.

Geoffrey looked up, grunted, and handed the camera back to her. “Talent, yes.” He took a sip of his tea.

When it was clear he wasn’t going to say anything else, Josie bit her lip. “Umm, thanks.” He stared at her for a moment and though she felt heat creep into her cheeks, she didn’t drop the gaze, sensing somehow that it was the wrong thing to do in that moment.

    “Email me some of your best work,” he said eventually. He got up, crossed to the desk, and moved a couple of things around, then came back to her with a business card. She took it.

“I, umm, have an Instagram account.”

He shook his head and those eyebrows pulled together. “No. I hate all that social media crap.”

Max rolled his eyes. “Really, Geoff, you’d think you were ninety, not forty-five.”

Geoffrey huffed. “Calling out my age in front of two pretty girls now, are we?” He stood, took Max’s mug without checking to see if he was finished, then took Erin’s when she offered it. Josie, realizing she still had most of her tea left, hastily took a sip. “No,” he said, looking at her. “Take your time. I’ll get the rest of us another, see if I can hunt up some biscuits.”

The moment he was out of the room, Josie spun to Max, trying hard to control her expression, being as how Erin was currently sitting between them. “You could have warned me,” she hissed.

“But then you would have said no.”

She folded her arms, fighting the urge to throw a tantrum. Erin gave Max a look that Josie couldn’t interpret, but Max only shook his head at her, then looked at Josie. “I thought you’d be pleased,” he said.

Both of them were looking at her now. Jesus, talk about pressure. She pulled a hand through her hair. “I am, I suppose.” She made herself take a sip of tea, hoping it would settle her, though the liquid was more tepid than hot now. “I am,” she repeated, and let go of all intention of getting in a huff about it. Memo had always told her it wasn’t an attractive quality. She glanced round the room again, sighed. “It’s seriously cool.” And she wished she had someone to tell, someone who understood the industry, who would understand just how seriously cool it was.

    Geoffrey came back in, carrying a stool that she presumed must be from the kitchen, which she perched on, helping herself to a ginger-nut biscuit when he offered them round. After about half an hour of small talk, which consisted largely of Max and Geoffrey jibing at each other while she and Erin sipped their teas politely, the three of them left or, more accurately, Geoffrey kicked them out. He stood in the doorway as they turned back to thank him.

“Email me,” he said to Josie, with command in his voice. “I’ll see if there’s anything I can do to help.”

For once, she didn’t protest that it was just a hobby. Instead, she asked something that had been playing on her mind a fair bit over the last few months. “It’s not too late? To start? I’m nearly thirty.”

He squinted his eyes shut, placed a hand dramatically on his forehead. “Oh, the horror. You’ll be decrepit soon enough.” He dropped his hand, looked at her. “No,” he said evenly. “There’s no age limit. It’s not like being a model.”

Josie smiled. “No, and thank God I never wanted to do that. I like wine and cheese far too much.”

He cracked a smile at that, then nodded to Erin. “You still looking out for him?”

    “I am,” she said. Josie tried not to squirm as Geoffrey nodded.